


Interlude

by helens78



Category: Star Wars Episode I: The Phantom Menace
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-12-07
Updated: 2003-12-07
Packaged: 2017-10-05 11:35:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,281
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/41329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/helens78/pseuds/helens78
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While Xanatos, Obi-Wan, and Siri are on a mission, Qui-Gon, T'nell, Mace, Keli and Aubris have other things to do.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Interlude

(Bail)

If she doesn't stop _sparkling_ at me, I might just have to stab her in the hand with my salad fork. By all the little gods! Does she never shut up?

"...and really, Coruscant is lovely this time of year, although I suppose it doesn't matter _what_ time of year it is, does it?"

I nod politely as she keeps talking. Must remain polite. I am, after all, going to _marry_ this woman.

"What do you like most about Coruscant, Bail?" she asks. There's a sly expression on her face that says _I know exactly what you like most_. I roll my eyes at her.

"Well, it's not whatever it is you're thinking."

"No? A padawan with the most interesting eyes -- I can never tell if they're green or blue or grey..."

I shake my head at her. "You do realize I have other things to do besides going to sex clubs or sharing gossip with my peers? Maybe I enjoy my _work_."

"All right, your work, then." Apparently _work_ was the magic word for her, because in mere seconds, she shifts from gossiping and shifty-eyed innuendo to businesslike detail. "How is the Caamas colony managing?"

"Fine," I tell her. Actually, I don't know much about the colony at this point; now that the negotiations are over, a completely different set of bureaucrats is handling the installment of the colonists on our southern continent. "I certainly haven't heard of any problems," I add, which is true enough. "How is work in the Naboo office?"

"It's fascinating. You know, I really do believe Senator Palpatine is making a difference -- not just for Naboo, but for the rest of the galaxy. We're finally beginning to have trade after all these years, and now that we're becoming more active as a part of the Republic -- thanks largely to Senator Palpatine, of course -- we're starting to get out from under the Trade Federation's thumb." She wrinkles her nose at that. "Export treaties are never easy to negotiate, and the Trade Federation certainly made it seem like things would be easier under their protection, but you would not _believe_ the sorts of taxes and fees they charge."

"I probably wouldn't," I admit. "Tax regulations are hardly my area of expertise."

"Oh. Well." She shrugs. "You know, Senator Palpatine would like to meet you. When I told him we were engaged, he said he thought it would be an excellent match, and wondered if you'd be interested in having a formal dinner at our embassy."

"That's very kind of him, but I'm sure he was just being polite." I grin a bit. "But you could have his secretary contact my secretary. If he ever has the time to spare, I'd be happy to meet him." I don't know much about Naboo's senior senator, but I suppose it wouldn't hurt to get to know him a bit better. Having more contacts in the senate is always a good thing. And Errie is right about one thing: Palpatine is going to be a powerful influence in the senate given enough time. If he and I get along well, it could be excellent for my career.

_Errie._ I love the idea that she's taken on a false name for her adventures here on Coruscant. Perhaps her home life isn't so different from mine. I remember feeling the need to do the same thing when I first arrived here. I wonder whether her family would be as shocked about her affairs on-planet as mine would be.

My thoughts are interrupted when I spot Senator Antilles across the room with Qui-Gon Jinn. The two of them are talking, even laughing together. Qui-Gon Jinn _laughing_ \-- that never fails to amaze me. He's always looked so serious when talking to me -- even when out of his robes at the clubs. I'm never certain whether I put him in a bad mood, or if I simply catch him at bad times. I wonder if he considers me a poor influence on Ben. I'm a politician, not a Jedi, after all. Maybe I don't measure up to his ideals. I wonder who he'd have liked to see Ben fall in love with.

Senator Antilles waves to me, and I take the excuse to extricate myself from tea with Errie. I lean forward and kiss her cheek, and give her my farewell, asking her to pass on my regards to Senator Palpatine when she sees him next. She agrees, and I make my way over to Senator Antilles and Master Jinn.

"Bail!" says Senator Antilles. "Master Jinn and I were just talking about you."

My eyebrows shoot up. This can't be good. "Were you? How flattering," I tell them. I turn to Master Jinn. "I hope he wasn't telling you the story about my allergic reaction to the kelpfish on Madagan Prime..."

"Nothing that obscure, Bail," Senator Antilles says. "No, I was telling him about your fiancee. Miss Naberrie, I believe...?"

"Mm." I shrug. I look up at Master Jinn, whose expression is quite neutral. "Yes, that's right. She and I haven't had much chance to get to know one another yet, but she seems a nice enough young woman."

"How long has she been on Coruscant?" Master Jinn asks. "Will you be spending a good deal of time with her now that she's here?"

"I--" _Oh._ Oh, I see. Will I be seeing much of Ben in the future, he means. "As much as can be expected," I tell him. "Are you familiar with the custom of arranged marriages as we have them on Alderaan?" I ask.

He gives a slight ironic smile to Senator Antilles, and then nods at me. "Somewhat," he says. "But you expect to find yourself and Miss Naberrie a compatible match?"

"Certainly." I'm starting to come to the conclusion that I don't _like_ Qui-Gon Jinn very much. Is this really any of his business?

He notices my consternation and is polite enough to stop his line of questioning. "I wish you happiness, then," he says. He turns to Senator Antilles and puts a hand on his shoulder. "I'm afraid I'm going to have to head back to the Temple," he says. "It was good seeing you again, Bail." He turns to me. "And you as well."

I don't believe him -- he really doesn't look as though it was good to see me again -- but at least he's being polite. "Of course, Master Jinn. Have a pleasant day."

Senator Antilles nudges me in the shoulder after Master Jinn leaves. "So tell me the truth. How was lunch with your fianc ?"

I shake my head; trusted confidante or no, better men than I have met their downfall by saying the wrong thing about a woman they're involved with. "She's very young," I tell him. "I'm glad the wedding's not for another few years."

* * *

(Qui)

It's irrational of me to find Bail Organa as irritating as I do. He's never been anything but polite to me, of course, but I wish he'd come to the conclusion that politics is not for him and thus he's got no reason to stay on Coruscant.

I should try to think on the bright side. Now that Bail's fiancée is on-planet, he'll be spending more time with her. If he doesn't have much time to spend with Obi-Wan... well, I won't have to worry about the Ethics Committee's ongoing investigation. Or about seeing the two of them together very often.

Part of me is relieved; the rest of me knows I'm being petty. The combination doesn't help my grimace at all, and Mace notices the instant I walk through the door to the training salle.

"You're in a black mood," Mace observes. He activates his saber and runs through several long, elegant warm-up maneuvers, eventually moving seamlessly into the first half of the seventh Ageless Kata. I sigh and activate my own saber, standing at his side and going through the motions with him. We were supposed to have a long afternoon practice, but I doubt I'm going to be at my best. Running into Senator Organa was a frustrating cap to an already unpleasant day.

"I ran into someone I didn't particularly want to see at lunch," I tell Mace.

"Hm." He doesn't even pause in his movements; he simply waits for me to continue.

There's no reason my day should have been unpleasant. I had a conference with a talented young padawan in the morning, lunch with Bail Antilles, and now saber practice with Mace -- nothing bad has happened today.

Nothing particularly good, either. I woke up alone, took tea alone, and when I go home tonight, I'll be going to bed alone. I miss Xan. I miss Obi-Wan. I have no idea which of them I miss more. Thoughts of both of them out on this mission have me up nights; I know there's nothing I can do, and I should trust Xanatos to take care of Obi-Wan, but this assignment -- we've already lost two Jedi to it.

Perhaps the reason I let Senator Organa irritate me so much was so I'd have something to think about besides worrying about my lovers and their mission. Given the choice between worrying about the mission and worrying about Senator Organa's place in Obi-Wan's life, I think I'll take the latter.

On that note, I sigh and tell Mace what I've been thinking since I saw Senator Organa at lunch. "I didn't always find rivalry so disconcerting."

Mace grins, but doesn't look at me. "I remember," he says.

As we finish the kata, he turns and faces me. "Rivalry used to be something you could channel into more useful pursuits. Do you remember _that_?"

I grin back at him, and come for him, my saber flashing green against his violet. We're evenly matched, he and I, and there was a time our own rivalry had us either fighting or fucking every night we were on the same planet.

Of course, we outgrew that years ago. Still, with the exertion of saber practice, with the knowledge that I don't have to hold anything back with him, I can't help remembering that he's right: rivalry used to feel very _useful_ indeed.

He notices the look on my face, and it sets him to grinning even more. "Been bored since your lovers have been on assignment?" he asks. He follows the question up with a nasty series of lunging thrusts, all of which are designed to make me retreat.

I spin out of his reach, and come on him with a fast attack of my own. "I wouldn't say bored, precisely," I tell him.

"Unsettled," he offers, parrying and thrusting, parrying and lunging. "Unsatisfied?"

"You have a one-track mind, Mace," I mutter, but it's me who ends up with his sleeve singed. We both take to our respective starting positions, and I salute him. "Point to you."

"Who's this rival of yours?" Mace asks. "I haven't heard anything about Xanatos taking another lover, and Obi-Wan -- well, he's a padawan," Mace shrugs. "Am I missing something?"

I grunt, which should be answer enough.

Mace grins. "All right. I won't ask."

We start again, sabers meeting, one block meeting another in a flurry of moves that could probably form the basis for a seminar on advanced saber techniques.

"Are you seeing anyone apart from Xanatos or Obi-Wan?" Mace asks.

"Not at the moment," I answer. "Why do you ask?"

"Because you need someone to fuck you into the wall," he says, and he's so matter-of-fact about it that I'm actually caught off-guard _again_. I curse as he clips my other arm with his saber, and we start over again.

"Point made," I tell him. "Are you volunteering?"

"I'm only making an observation," Mace says. "You're distracted. You're growling. And you've lost two points in a row. All signs of a sexually frustrated Qui-Gon Jinn."

And when he turns two points into three, our duel is over. I salute him and deactivate my saber.

"You're probably right. I should go out tonight. Want to join me?"

Mace shakes his head. "Sex clubs are not my particular passion," he tells me.

"Pity. You'd be overrun with young men and women looking to rub your head. And other parts of you." I smirk at him.

"Be that as it may," he says, rolling his eyes a bit, "I think I have a few too many reviews to catch up on to waste my evening at a sex club."

"And what does that say about me, my reviews, and my ability to waste an evening?" I ask, grinning.

"It says you don't procrastinate half as much as I do when it comes to work," Mace snorts. "Go on, get out of here. See if you can find someone else to keep you out of trouble tonight. Or get you into trouble, as the case may be."

As I make my way from the salle to my apartment, I realize it's not a question of _if_ I can find someone to keep me out of -- or get me into -- trouble. It's just a matter of _when_ he'll be available. I haven't seen T'nell in... has it been that long? After I arrive at my apartment, I leave a message for him and head off to take a shower.

By the time I get out, the doorbell's chiming. I have a towel draped around my hips; that's more than enough to greet T'nell. I head out to the outer room of my apartment and open the door, resting an arm against the doorframe.

"Hello there," I purr at him.

"Hello yourself," he purrs back.

I wonder if we need to go _out_ tonight at all.

* * *

(T'nell)

I didn't expect to hear from Qui-Gon tonight, but I certainly wasn't going to pass up the opportunity to head over for a quickie once it was offered. I'm still adjusting my tunics as I walk out of Qui-Gon's apartment, getting my clothing back in order. I'm hot, sweaty, and I have a very pleasant ache in my ass. That was the nicest start to an evening I've had all month. What got into Qui-Gon, I wonder?

Heh. Maybe it's less a matter of what got into him and more a matter of what's _not_ been getting into him lately. Poor guy. With Xanatos and Obi-Wan both off-planet, he must be at his wit's end.

Lucky for me. Maybe not as lucky as I'd like, though. Even after that quick fuck, I'm as horny as a Twi'lek on Uplift. Qui-Gon rolled his eyes at me when I suggested he come out clubbing with me afterwards; he made some excuse about age requiring more beauty rest. I didn't tease him too awfully much -- he did, after all, give me an incredible fuck against the wall as soon as I showed up at his door. Can't ask for more than that.

Or maybe I can. Which is why I'm heading off to Rising.

"T'nell? Wait up!"

Ah, and better yet -- not alone. I turn and grin over my shoulder at Keli. "Hi there. How have you been?" I ask.

He shrugs. "Bored. Siri's been off-planet."

Force bless this mission. Between Qui-Gon and Keli, I think this is going to be my best night in years. Well, months. Well, weeks, anyway. I wrap an arm around his shoulders. "I'm heading out to Rising. Want to join me?"

"Do you mean join you or _join_ you?" he asks, with an adorable wiggling of eyebrows.

"Both, of course," I tell him.

"Well, when you put it like _that_..."

He needs to change first, so I agree to call for a cab while he does. He swears it won't take long, and lucky bastard that he is, it won't. All he has to do is change into something slinky and he'll have more eyes, hands and mouths on him than he can stand. The cab gets to the landing pad before Keli does, but only by about thirty seconds -- I wasn't counting, but the cab's meter was. I give Keli a mock glare when he climbs into the cab next to me, and point at the meter. "You're going to owe me for making me wait," I tell him.

"Oh, I can think of ways to make it up to you--" He reaches over and puts a hand on my knee, then starts sliding it up my leg.

The cabbie clears her throat. "Hey back there," she says. "I don't mind you two fooling around a little, but keep the upholstery clean, yeah?"

This sends both me and Keli into fits of laughter, and I catch a glimpse of the cabbie's grin in the rearview mirror. It's a pleasant drive down to Rising, and I tip her nicely when we arrive.

"What are you in the mood for?" Keli asks. "Want to find someone to share?"

"Oh, I could be persuaded in that direction," I grin. "Who do you have in mind?"

"Won't know until I see who's in there tonight," he tells me. "Tell you what. We split up and see who looks interesting, and if we run back into each other with time to spare, then we start looking at people to share."

"Fair enough." He sounds just full of energy. I'm almost envious.

After we get through the doors, Keli disappears in a swirl of undulating bodies, and I find my way up to the counter for a drink before I get started on my crowd-watching. I think I'm in the mood for someone male tonight -- probably Qui-Gon's influence, as I'd like to give someone the kind of nice rough fuck he gave me -- so I start looking bodies over, one after another after another. There are worse ways to spend an evening.

I catch glimpses of Keli across the room, in one being's arms or another. He finally settles down with a tall blond man, a bit older than us, with a nice build and a slightly hawkish look to his features. Not bad. I'd share him, given half the chance.

Keli notices me watching, and he leans up to say something to the blond. The blond looks at me and snorts -- I can see the look of amusement from here -- and then he inclines his head, calling me over. He and Keli head off for the back room, and I decide to take the long way around in case there's someone else I might want to pick up on the way.

When I get there, the blond has Keli up against the wall. Keli's feet are back a little, and his hands are braced against the wall while he moves back on the blond's cock. The blonde has his forearm draped over Keli's shoulders to keep him in place, and his other hand is gripping Keli's hip. They're not exchanging so much as a word, and Keli looks like he couldn't care less. He's making more sound than I've ever heard from him before, the universal grunts of _Fuck, this is good._

I put my own hand on the blond's shoulder and make him an offer. He laughs and nods, and I let my pants down, rolling a self-lubing barrier on and letting the blond come to a pause in his movements. I slide my thumbs into his cleft, parting him for me, and then press in, slow and steady.

_Force._ I know it's a cliché to say someone's hot and tight, but this man's a fucking furnace, and the way he's clenching me makes me wonder how long I'm going to last. He certainly puts the lie to the idea that one bottom is as good as any other. So to speak.

It's his show, really; Keli and I hold still while he rocks forward, into Keli, and then rocks back, onto me. I don't know about Keli, but I'm perfectly happy that way, just taking the blond's hips in my hands and holding on, letting him fuck himself on me. I think the look on my face must mirror what Keli's face was saying a few minutes ago -- _fuck, this is good_. It is. It's the best fuck I've had in a damn long time.

I hope he tells us his name.

Keli comes first, shoving back hard against the blond and shouting something wordless against the wall; I'm next, my grip on the blond tightening as I finally can't stand it anymore, and I have to move, fucking him hard and shoving him into Keli as I go. When it's over, I collapse, but it occurs to me the blond hasn't come, and I run my hands up his chest, wondering if there's anything we can do to make it happen or if he's on some kind of drug that's going to keep him hard and fucking all night long.

"Do you want...?" I begin. He shakes his head, gesturing for me to pull out of him. When I do, he sighs and pulls away from Keli, who nearly collapses against the wall. I grin and step over to him, supporting him with an arm and then sliding down to the floor with him.

The blond takes advantage of our distraction to zip himself back into his pants and leave. Damn, and he didn't tell us his name. That's all right, I'd remember him anywhere. He looked...

...looked like...

...what _did_ he look like? I don't remember.

* * *

(Aubris)

Ah, the clubs. Boys doped on alcohol, synthehol, and any number of drugs. A sea of easy targets. And then there are the padawans, of course. Tuck a braid away behind an ear and you're _still_ a padawan; it's not as if it's that hard to tell. I was a padawan once, too. I know how hungry they get.

And at any rate, I did have a few hours to kill before I meet _him_. Mr. Anonymous, the one I've been writing to for the past several months. I met him while I was on a mission to Gallista Seven, although I don't think he's Gallistese -- I haven't seen him out of his clothes, but I don't think he has a dorsal stripe.

And it's not like _that_, anyway. I'm not trying to get him out of his clothes. He's just... interesting. He has a lot of opinions, about the Republic, about the Senate, about... well, about _me_, which is odd. He seems to know so much about me, as if we've been close for years.

I only met him again recently. He arrived on-planet shortly after my... problems. The ethics committee's investigation. I remember being intrigued by his invitation to join him for dinner, and wondered what he'd been up to since I'd seen him last.

Instead of hearing about his recent adventures, we talked about me. I found myself confiding things to him that I wouldn't have imagined talking about with anyone else. I told him about Bail Organa's accusations, Obi-Wan Kenobi's jealousy, and Qui-Gon Jinn suddenly turning distant and refusing to write me a letter of recommendation. I told him how betrayed I felt by all of them.

And he listened while I let out my frustration. He's a good listener; better than any of my so-called friends at the Temple. And when he talks, I can't help but pay attention. He has a very deep voice, one that would draw ears even in crowded rooms. It matches the rest of his demeanor -- tall, white hair, white beard. Most of the time, his face is entirely expressionless -- I would not want to play sabacc against this man. Once in a while, though, I can see traces of sympathy and understanding in his features. He's more difficult to read than anyone else I've met, but somehow that doesn't matter. I feel as if I can trust him.

He says he's going to be on Coruscant more often in the future, which is good to hear. The more time goes by, the more I want to be away from the Temple. I still have my career to think about, I still know my talents can be used to help people, but...

...I don't know. Sometimes I wonder if those people are _worth_ helping.

No, that's not it. And I'll feel better after I've talked to him tonight. Sometimes I _do_ wonder what I'm doing here, if all the things I've had to sacrifice to get where I am today are worth it. And he's reminded me that there are other ways to help people. Other ways beyond the obvious, beyond what we do at the Temple. The Jedi aren't the only ones who have the power to help others.

I'm not thinking about _leaving_, of course. Leave the Order? The Temple? My home? No, certainly not, and that's not what he's been getting at when he's pointed out there are other options. He just wants me to know that I don't have to feel as if there's only one right way to solve any puzzle.

I walk into the bar. He's already there, at a table near the back, waiting for me. He raises his glass in salute, and I notice he's already ordered me a drink. I smile as I sit down at the table across from him.

"Hello, my friend," he says, voice rumbling low in his chest. "How are you tonight?"

It always amazes me how easy it is to confide in him. He's so easy to talk to, so easy to _trust_. I start talking, and like every time I have the opportunity to talk to him, I wonder if I'll ever be able to stop.

_-end-_


End file.
